A thief has been stealing my livelihood. The depredations were so gradual that I hadn't realised how serious the situation had become, until I found that an entire week had gone by and I hadn't written anything worth submitting.
I knew immediately who the culprit was, none other than Mr Procrastination! Let me give you an example of how sneaky he's been.
This is a typical scenario...
I'm ready to start writing but first I have to check my email; you never know there might be an acceptance lurking in there. Nothing, oh well back to work.
Hold on a minute, I need some coffee to get the creative juices flowing. Coffee at the ready, computer on, I’d better check emails first. I look out of the window. Isn't that the mailman coming? I can see him at the other end of the block. I'd better hold on, because I don't want any distractions. I play card games on the computer while I'm waiting for the mailman. I look out of the window again. He's nearly here. Oh no, he's gone right by. No acceptances there either.
Back to work. Check emails again, and again. Bring up file and reach for my coffee cup. Empty. I'd better go and get some more. I need it to help the words flow. Settled again at the computer I check emails, still nothing.
Bring up my file; all the coffee has passed straight through me. Bathroom break required. I'm feeling a bit peckish; maybe a sandwich is the answer. Can't expect to write on an empty stomach. Off I go to the kitchen.
Back again, I switch on the computer and check emails, press send and receive six or seven times, just in case something is about to come through. Still nothing. Bring up my file; the screen looks blankly back at me. Remember that I'd promised to call my mother. Get the busy signal. Oh well I'll have to keep trying; there's no way I can write while I'm thinking about something else. Eventually get through. She asks how the writing is going and I tell her that I can't wait to get back to work.
Switch the computer back on and check emails, still nothing. Maybe my server isn't working properly, I'd better check by sending myself a message. Receive message from myself so everything's fine. Press send and receive a few more times. Bring up my file again, now to get those magical words down on paper. Oh no, the screen has smears on it. They must have come from the sandwich that I had earlier. I can't work with distractions like that, I'd better get a cloth to clean it. Check emails a few more times.
Look for my notes and realise that it's a while since I did any filing. On the basis that a tidy office is a happy office I sort out my filing crisis.
After all this activity I need a little light relief. I know, I'll play computer cards for half an hour or so. Two hours later I bring up my file to start typing and realise that it is mid-afternoon and I haven't written a word.
Those of you out there, who can say, hand on heart, that they've never been guilty of any of the above, should read no further - this article is not for you. But for me it was all too easy to slip into such bad habits.
I decided to take myself firmly in hand. I am obviously a weak-willed individual and I needed to make my office environment more work friendly and eliminate temptation.
The first step was to remove the games component from my computer. This is done by accessing Control Panel, choosing add/remove programmes, and then going into set up and uninstalling games (normally found in accessories).
The second step was to move the coffeemaker from the kitchen into the study. Coffee on tap removed the excuse to leave the computer. I also decided to set an alarm clock and take a fixed lunch break. I keep a pack of screen wipes next to the monitor. I put the answering machine on so that I could monitor incoming calls, after all I didn't want to miss anything urgent. I told my mother that I'd only phone her in the evenings from now on, an announcement that thrilled her to bits because I'd been interrupting her bridge sessions.
I've also decided, going by the old 'watched pot never boils' saying, that there's no point in looking out for the mailman. He won't arrive any quicker and he isn't more likely to have acceptances in his bag if I watch him coming (I still have difficulty with this one, secretly believing that the contents of his sack will change if I apply sufficient mental pressure, but I'm working on it).
I've allocated set times every day for filing, and given myself a target of putting something in the marketplace each day. Whether it's a query letter and outline, an article or a short story, five pieces of work each week must be submitted.
Has it worked? I hear you ask. Well the proof of the pudding and all that, I've finished this article and still have time to start another.
I'll just check for emails first...
Hey come on, give me a break. I'm only human!
© Lorraine Mace 2003
